


Say What?!

by tiger_in_the_flightdeck



Series: Tiger's Tumblr Ficlets [14]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, M/M, Prompt Fill, Pure Smut, So much smut, deduction kink, sort of, top!John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:17:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiger_in_the_flightdeck/pseuds/tiger_in_the_flightdeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere in the back of John’s mind, a needle was suddenly torn off a record, causing it to skip.</p><p> “What did you just say?” Propping himself up on his elbows, John stared down at Sherlock, who was still licking and kissing the tip of his- still rigid- penis.</p><p> “I asked if you liked what I was doing.” Sherlock explained, as if he was speaking to an idiot. Which, considering who he was, was his normal voice.</p><p> John collapsed back onto his pillow. It was a bad sign, that Sherlock’s condescending tone was almost as arousing as a breathless gasp. It didn’t bode well for his concentration on any future cases. “I meant, why did you just call me… That?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say What?!

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a prompt fill on tumblr, for someone who wanted dirty talk between the boys. It sort of developed into this... I'm sorry. Ish.

John lifted and rolled his hips, pressing deeper into Sherlock’s mouth. He felt the man’s throat relax as he nudged against it. When he was able to get his eyes to focus, and stop seeing spots, he looked down to see his cock had completely disappeared between a pair of full, pouting lips.

 

“Oh, Jesus. I want to find out who taught you to do that. And kill him.” John buried his fingers into Sherlock’s curls to hold him still. He kept his grip until he felt Sherlock begin to squirm, then yanked him off to let him breathe. “Okay, love?”

 

Sherlock choked and grinned, nodding. He scrubbed his mouth with the back of his wrist. “No one taught me. I’m just reading your body responses. You make odd little sounds when I swallow as much of you as I can fit. Those noises are wonderful.” He trailed nibbling kisses up and down John’s length before slipping his tongue under the taut foreskin to lap up the bitter pre-come.

 

“You were born for this.” John huffed out. Planting his feet on the bed, he spread his thighs wider to make room for Sherlock’s shoulders. The young man wrapped his long fingers around his base, and slowly dragged them up. Milking more pre-come out, he sipped it up with a pleased groan. “Oh, god… Baby, you’re so good.”

 

“You like it, Daddy?”

 

“Yes. Oh, Christ, yes. You’re going to make me- Wait.”

 

Somewhere in the back of John’s mind, a needle was suddenly torn off a record, causing it to skip.

 

“What did you just say?” Propping himself up on his elbows, John stared down at Sherlock, who was still licking and kissing the tip of his- still rigid- penis.

 

“I asked if you liked what I was doing.” Sherlock explained, as if he was speaking to an idiot. Which, considering who he was, was his normal voice.

 

John collapsed back onto his pillow. It was a bad sign, that Sherlock’s condescending tone was almost as arousing as a breathless gasp. It didn’t bode well for his concentration on any future cases. “I  _meant_ , why did you just call me… That?”

 

Pale eyes twinkling, Sherlock settled more comfortably between John’s legs. “Like I said, I judge your body’s reactions. You convulsed slightly when you called me ‘baby’, and your breath hitched.” Licking his palm a few times, he took John in hand, and began to pump him in time with his words.

 

“Fu-UCK!” John’s head thrashed on his pillow, and gripped tight handfuls of the bed sheets. “S-so, you deduced me?” His voice came out thick, and heavy.

 

Sherlock’s mouth was too full to answer right away. When he let go with a pop, a thin line of saliva trailed from the tip of his tongue, to the tip of John’s cock. “Yes, John. I read your reactions, such as the jump in your heart rate, and your breathing. Your temperature rose slightly, but noticeably.” As he was speaking, Sherlock grabbed up the bottle of lube that had been left on the bed. Popping the cap, he dribbled some onto his fingers, and reached down between his thighs. He gasped softly, as he pressed a fingertip into his hole. “Your thighs begin to shake, when you are considerably aroused. When- Nnh!- When you are ready to throw me onto the mattress and drive into me.”

 

Eyes wide, John stroked his palms over Sherlock’s thighs, helping to steady him as he climbed up onto his lap. “And how did you get ‘Daddy’ from that?” Taking the lube from his partner, he poured some into his palm. He coated his cock, and held it still for Sherlock to slowly impale himself on. “Oh, Jesus… God, Sherlock, you’re too tight. Doesn’t this hurt, Ba- Love?”

 

Teeth clamping down on his lip, Sherlock nodded, bracing his hands flat on John’s chest. “That’s because you’re so big, Daddy. You can pretend you’re taking my virginity again.” Pouting in concentration, Sherlock bounced, taking the final inch of John in.

 

Somewhere between the intense pleasure, and his eyes rolling back in his head, John managed to find his voice. “Is that turning you on?” He choked out, trying not to slam his hips up. “The whole daddy’s boy thing?”

 

Over the past three years, he had introduced Sherlock to the wonderful world of sex, and had sat back, chuffed, as he watched the man discover his own body and sexuality. He just never thought it would lead here. So far, the kinkiest thing they ever really indulged in was specialty under garments. They had spent an afternoon having Sherlock fitted for a dozen pairs of handmade silken, lacy, and ruffled panties, then proceeded to spend several weeks ruining them.

 

John had always thought that they were fairly vanilla, with the occasional dash of spice.

 

“Your reactions are turning me on, Daddy. Goosebumps are covering approximately seventy-five percent of your exposed skin.”

 

“Oh  _Christ_ …” John couldn’t stop the upward thrust, jarring Sherlock up, making his sweat-dampened curls jump.

 

Sherlock scraped his nails down John’s chest. His eyes fluttered closed, and his mouth went slack. “According to my research-“

 

“Fuck… Oh, fuck, Sherlock!”

 

“-the ‘Daddy complex’ is fairly common in men of your age. Particularly ones with a dominant, yet nurturing personality such as your own.” Sherlock’s cock bobbed against his belly, and he reached down to lift and roll his bollocks around his palm. All of his weight was being lifted and dropped by the strength of his trembling thighs. “My analysis-“

 

“Oh my god, don’t stop, Baby.”

 

”- of your bodily responses whenever you need to tend me, such as when I’ve tripped and fallen, or become ill, or- mmmhn… Daddy, you’re so big… Or when other people have insulted me, it is highly suggestive-“

 

“Keep talking, my sweet Baby.”

 

“-that you would enjoy this. That isn’t even taking into account our age difference.” Swiping his hand over his face, then burying his fingers into his curls, Sherlock dropped his head back and groaned. Their bodies came together with jolting force as John finally gave in and began snapping his hips up. The bed springs complained, and the headboard rattled against the wall. “You once described me as looking about twelve years old. Now, while I know you are attracted to me as a fully formed adult, you are also aroused by many of the things that would be seen as ‘young’ on me.”

 

John lifted himself up on his elbows, before rising the rest of the way up. He wrapped an arm around Sherlock’s trim waist and helped guide him over his cock. “Tell me what I like.” he growled, mouthing at the younger man’s throat. His long slim erection was pinned between them, rutting up against John’s slightly soft stomach.

 

“My hair, you think it makes me look angelic and innocent.” Sherlock tossed his head, and squeezed his arse around John’s cock. “My lips. The way they curve up. You like to come on them. My backside. Especially when I’m on my knees in front of you. You like to swat it, and make it shake. Punishment kink, combined with our age difference, your loving and caring nature, and the visual things you find attractive about me, it brings me to a logical conclusion.”

 

Tightening his grip on Sherlock’s waist, John rolled them and pinned him down onto the bed by his wrists with one small, strong hand. He nearly bent him in half, driving his tongue into his mouth. Squeaking, Sherlock grabbed his ankles and held his legs up out of the way. His arse lifted off the bed, giving John better access. “What conclusion is that, Sherlock? What do your deductions tell you?” He reached down and slapped Sherlock’s round, plump rump.

 

“That you should fuck me, Daddy. Fuck your boy hard! I want to feel your cock so deep inside of me. Please… Please, John,  _harder_.”

 

John tucked his knees up a bit higher so they were nearly on either side of Sherlock’s hips as he thrust into him. His free hand moved up to dig into thick curls. He twisted a handful of hair around his fist, drawing a blissful howl from his partner. “Such a good little… My beautiful Sherlock. Love you, you brilliant genius. You absolutely mad, amazing genius.”

 

Sherlock’s eyes snapped wide, his pupils blowing with lust. He looked down between them, his lips parted in confusion and shock. “Da… John, I’m going to come.” he whispered, sounding almost frightened. “You’re not… Even touching… John, I’m coming!” Bucking up off the mattress, Sherlock forced John to bury bollocks deep into his arse as he started to pulse over his skin. Without a hand to hold it still, his cock jumped, splashing John’s chest. A final spurt hit him in the chin and mouth. Panting, Sherlock started to lick his lips clean.

 

“Mine,” John grunted, pushing Sherlock back down to the bed. He braced his forearm across the young man’s chest and dragged his tongue over his lips. Sherlock’s semen was bitter, with a salty sweet tang on the tip of John’s tongue. “Now,  _stay still_ , and let me come.”

 

Kneeling up, John held Sherlock’s calves to keep him bent double as he worked his hips in shallow thrusts. As usual, it was the look on the other man’s face that sent him over the edge. John almost always went second, especially when he was topping. Seeing Sherlock spent and overwhelmed was nearly enough to make John come without any contact. His orgasm rolled in slowly, beginning as a tightly coiled sensation low in his belly, as his bollocks snugged up between his thighs. “Ready for it, Baby?”

 

Sherlock sucked in a shaking breath through his teeth, and nodded.

 

Kissing Sherlock’s legs and knees, John let out a small shout of pleasure as he began to fill his partner with his come. He pulled out half way through, and jerked over Sherlock’s stomach. As he rode out the high, he massaged their mingled semen into his flushed skin.

 

“I can’t feel my toes.” John giggled, flopping over to the side. He curled his arm around Sherlock, and pulled him against his chest. “Don’t ever call me Daddy again.”

 

Frowning, Sherlock pushed his hair out of his eyes and sat up. A thick drop of come dripped from the point of his chin to land on his thigh. He swiped it up with his fingers, and sucked them clean. “But you liked it. I read you. All of my analysis of you suggested… I mean… Your heart rate when I was explaining how I figured it out. Your breathing grew erratic when I was giving details, and reasoning, and… Oh.”

 

Scrubbing a bit of drying sweat from his face, John sat up as well, and kissed Sherlock deeply. “Took you long enough, love.” He bopped the man lightly on the end of the nose. “I don’t have a Daddy complex. I’ve got a Basking In The Deductive Glory Of My Beautiful And Sexy Genius Boyfriend complex. Luckily, I have a sex partner that caters to that.”

 

With a slightly manic grin, Sherlock straddled John’s lap, and kissed him again. “I think I can find us a nice romantic crime scene.” He purred, rolling his hips.

 

John snaked his arms around his waist, and lifted his hips in response. “Mmm, a nice difficult one. Missing clues. Locked door.”

 

“A bloodless corpse, with no injuries.”

 

“Fu- Mysterious foot prints in the dust.”

 

“On the ceiling.”

 

“Oh… Oh, you filthy tease.” 


End file.
